“Any luck with the delay?” Navan asked, snapping me out of my reverie.
“Huh?”
“The delaying strategies, sleepyhead. Have you had any luck trying to delay the pregnancy?”
I’d asked Navan what coldblood women did to postpone the gestation of their babies, but he hadn’t been much help. Apparently, it was some closely guarded secret that only Vysanthean females were party to—a modern-day Red Tent scenario, where the men were clueless about a woman’s reproductive powers. Unfortunately, it didn’t help me. I’d tried a couple of things myself—mainly squeezing hard and hoping for the best—to see if I could delay it by accident, but the daily injections were making it nearly impossible to do anything but let my stomach swell.
I was gaining weight every day, even on the days I wasn’t shoveling down platefuls of printed food to try to satisfy the baby’s hunger, and Mort had taken great pleasure in mocking me. The last time I’d entered the clinic he’d ducked behind the surgical bed, grabbed a mop handle, and shouted, “Man the harpoons, lads! Whale off the port-bow!” Since then, he’d taken to calling me Moby Dick, which I wasn’t too happy about… especially when I still had some growing to do. Of all the people who’d spent time on Earth, why did Mort have to be the one with a penchant for American literature and pop culture references?
“No luck, these injections are taking over,” I replied, feeling for the smooth, comforting shape of the opaleine stone that Cambien had given me. It was in my pocket safe and sound. I was glad it hadn’t been taken away from me; Aurelius had assumed it was a sentimental keepsake from Navan, since it was the favored gemstone of Vysanthe, leaving me free to summon the mysterious help that Cambien had offered. I’d thought about doing it a couple of times—breaking the stone—but each time I came close, something held me back. It wasn’t time yet.
“Do you think it’s still a possibility?” Navan asked.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure my inferior human parts have the right equipment.”
“I was worried that might be the case.”
“Well, it’s not my fault! I can’t help the anatomy I’ve been given. Sorry I’m not some magical coldblood, able to halt pregnancy at will. Believe me, I wish I could do what they can, instead of being petrified about what those rebel bastards are going to do to my child!” I snapped, carried away on a sudden wave of annoyance.
“I didn’t mean—”
I sighed, cutting him off. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry. It gets to be a bit much, that’s all.”
I’d been irritable of late, which was probably understandable given the situation, but I hated lashing out at Navan like this, going through an endless cycle of irritation and apology.
He walked over to the side of the bed and sat down beside me, pulling me into his arms. “I know, my love. I’m still working on a plan to get us out of here, I promise. I haven’t given up on us, and I won’t until the very last second. They haven’t won yet.”
We’d been discussing various plans of escape, where I could hold off on giving birth until we were free of the space station so that Ezra and Aurelius couldn’t take the baby from us. However, with every day that passed, and every injection of golden serum that was forced into my body, it was looking less and less likely. We were stuck here, gestating a baby for the sole purpose of their elixir. We just hadn’t fully accepted it yet.
“I just feel so antsy all the time, like my skin is crawling, and no matter what I do, I can’t get comfortable,” I admitted. “I hate snapping at you like that. It’s completely irrational, and you don’t deserve it.”
Navan smiled, tilting my chin up to kiss my lips. “It’s just the baby, messing with your hormones. I understand.”
“Just when you thought my pregnancy couldn’t get any worse, eh?” I teased, wanting to lighten the mood. I couldn’t cope with the highs and lows, not when we were stuck in the same room with each other, twenty-four seven. I adored Navan with every fiber of my being, but sometimes the trips out to see Mort, and the fleeting distraction of Lazar’s visits, were a welcome change. I felt awful for thinking it, but it was the truth.
As if summoned by my thoughts, a familiar beep sounded at the door, before the thick door slid open to reveal Lazar. I was almost salivating, the beep of the retinal scan forging some kind of Pavlovian response in me. It was the sweet relief of fresh company, despite my misgivings about Lazar. My eyes flickered toward the briefcase in his hand, thinking of the golden liquid in the syringe. The injections themselves were uncomfortable, getting even more so with each expansion of my tummy, but the aftermath was almost soothing.
“Good afternoon, and how are we today?” Lazar asked.
I shot him a look. “Snappy, hungry, overheated, exhausted, and the rest of the seven dwarves.”
“You really are very amusing, Riley,” he replied, though it was clear he didn’t understand the joke. I was already on the bed, my shirt lifted over the watermelon of a belly.
Lazar wasted no time plucking the syringe from his briefcase and removing the safety cap. He inserted the needle into a spot above my hip, feeding it through to my abdomen before pushing down on the plunger. I watched the shimmering liquid disappear, feeling instantly better as he removed the needle and put the empty canister back into his briefcase. I could sense the serum moving through my veins, feeding the baby, feeding my body, washing over me in a wave of relief.
“Same time again tomorrow?” I asked.
Lazar smiled. “I may be a little later tomorrow, as I have some alchemical projects to attend to, but I’ll do what I can.”
“You can’t be late, Lazar,” I insisted, the thought of a delay sending a shiver of panic up my spine.
“I’ll try not to be.”
“That’s not good enough.”
He frowned. “Well, it’s going to have to be.”
Navan looked at me, a strange expression on his face. I bit back a bitter tirade that threatened to pour out of my mouth, knowing it was the hormones speaking. The last thing I wanted to do was get into a full-blown argument with Lazar and Navan, only to be left in the room to stew in my anger, while Lazar waltzed off to whatever “alchemical projects” he had to attend to.
“What was all that about?” Navan asked, once Lazar had gone.
I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Riley. You and Lazar, just then. What was that about? What does it matter if he’s a few hours late? It’s not like those injections are doing you any good.”
Realization dawned in a sickening twist of my stomach, my formerly giddy brain sinking into a pit of despair. I’d been snappish with Navan more often in the last day or two, unable to cope with even the smallest inconvenience, my skin constantly feeling prickly and uncomfortable. The only time I wasn’t irritable was in the hour or so after Lazar came to administer the injection.
“It’s the growth serum… it must be giving me some kind of temporary high. When I don’t have it, I crave it, and the longer I have to wait for another injection, the more irritable I feel.” I looked up at him, my heart thundering. “What the hell are they doing to me? Are they trying to drug me?”
Navan kneeled in front of me, holding my hands in his. “I don’t think they’re trying to drug you, Riley. I think it might be the silver root in your system, causing an addiction to something in the injection.”
“You think so?”
“They’re giving you large enough doses, and if there is a stimulant in there—which I imagine there will be, considering what the serum is intended for—your body will be craving it,” he said softly. “I’ve been thinking that might be the case for a couple of days, but I didn’t want to bring it up until you did.”
Bile rose up my throat. “What do you think is in it?” Flashbacks flickered in my head, revealing memories I’d long thought suppressed in the deepest recesses of my mind. I saw my birthparents splayed out on the ground, Sasha coughing vomit onto the tendrils of her hair, the
ir pupils so large that their entire eyeballs looked pitch black. George, my birthfather, was cackling to himself as he rolled around on the floor, while I sat against the wall in silence, too scared to cry.
“Since it’s a growth serum, I imagine they used the blood of a Saccharine. There are a few species in the genus, but they’re known for having a sweet, powerful blood that can be used in serums like this,” Navan said. “It’s only mildly addictive to most species, like human caffeine might be, but I guess the residual effects of that silver root have made it ten times worse for you.”
I nodded. “You told me, back then, that even the mildest stimulant could cause a problem. I never even stopped to think that this stuff might have anything in it.”
“Neither did I.” He cast his gaze down, his shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Riley. I shouldn’t have let him inject you in the first place. I should have stood my ground.”
“I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Navan. We’ve been over this—neither of us had a choice. If you’d disagreed, Ezra and Aurelius would’ve killed you, and I would be here all alone, wondering what the hell was happening.”
“I’m going to speak to Aurelius now and get this sorted out. They can’t keep pumping you full of that stuff if it’s going to do this to you,” he insisted, letting go of my hands and getting to his feet.
I smiled sadly. “Do you really think it matters to them?”
“What do you mean? Of course it matters!”
“No, Navan, it doesn’t.” I took a deep breath, tears brimming in my eyes. “Don’t you think it’s weird how nobody has mentioned what they’re going to do to me, once the baby is born? They talk about the child and the elixir, and they talk about you and your execution, but they don’t say a word about me.”
“I don’t follow.”
“They don’t mention me because I don’t matter. They won’t care about the side effects because I don’t matter. I am here to grow the child, and that’s all.”
Navan looked frantic now. “I really don’t understand, Riley.”
“Don’t you see?” I whispered as the tears fell. “They don’t expect me to survive the pregnancy.”
Another week passed in a blur of pain, cravings, and struggling to hold on to what remained of my rational mind. I spent most of my days between the bed and the bathroom, as my body tried to keep up with the expansion of my belly, my lungs fighting for breath as the baby pushed hard against my diaphragm, while my bladder had become about as efficient as a thimble for the same reason.
And so, when Ezra arrived to take a look at me at the beginning of my third week, I was in a less than glamorous state, spread out on the covers. He had stayed away for the most part, preferring to hear updates from Lazar, but today we’d been graced with his presence. Frankly, I didn’t care. He wanted me dead, he wanted my baby dead, he wanted my husband dead, and I hated him for it with every ounce of energy I had left.
“Aren’t you glorious?” he purred, prowling at my bedside, making me feel like the goose that was going to lay the golden egg, Navan ensured he didn’t get too close, for which I was very grateful. I wasn’t sure I could handle Ezra trying to touch my swollen stomach. I’d probably have punched him in the face if he’d tried to.
“Hardly,” I shot back.
“I think you’re magnificent,” Ezra went on. “You don’t even know how special you are. Do you realize that you’re going to be the savior of the Vysanthean race?”
“I wasn’t aware it needed saving.” I really wasn’t in the mood for a rousing speech about the splendor of Vysanthe, and all the good my dead child would do. Unless he could promise our freedom, I wasn’t interested in anything he had to say.
He ignored me. “As soon as we’ve defeated the queens and taken up our rightful place at the head of a democratic Vysanthe, we’ll ensure that every single citizen who follows us is given the joys of eternal life. You’ve made all of this possible.”
“And what happens to all your lovely plans if the elixir doesn’t work?” I sniped.
“You’d better hope it does.” His eyes shone with malice.
“Why? It’s not like it’s going to change anything. You want us all dead anyway, so why should it matter to me how or when you do it? Heck, I’ll probably already be dead. Isn’t that what you’re banking on?” Truthfully, I didn’t dare dwell on what might happen to us if the elixir didn’t work, but it was probably better than a universe full of immortal coldbloods.
“Perhaps I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little friendlier,” Ezra spat, evidently put out by my irritable mood.
“How about you don’t!” I shouted at his retreating back, loathing him with every cell in my body. I had never hated a single person so much in my entire life, and the addiction wasn’t making things any better. Every normal emotion going through my mind was amped up to a hundred, making me more or less unbearable to live with.
“At least he’s bearing the brunt today,” Navan teased, coming to sit at my side. “How are you holding up?” I’d realized pretty quickly that he was the most patient man in the universe, putting up with my mood swings, which could switch from a fiery tempest to bright sunshine in the blink of an eye.
I gulped, feeling desperate. “All I want is that serum.”
Despite all the delicious food that the rebels had been providing me with, even changing the food printing machine at my request, nothing satisfied the gnawing ache in the pit of my stomach. The only thing able to sate that hunger was the injections. My addiction to the serum was getting worse, I knew it was, making me paranoid about the baby. I’d promised to love it and protect it, but I’d already failed before the poor soul was even born.
“Oh, and for someone to shut off that freaking music!” I barked, jabbing a finger at the speakers that filled our room with incessant, so-called “calming” music. It played on a constant loop, making me want to tear off my face and stuff the remains in my ears. It really was that bad.
“I’ll ask Lazar next time he comes in,” Navan promised.
“He’d better not be late today.” I felt miserable enough as it was, without being deprived of my serum.
“What do you think the others are up to right now?” he asked unexpectedly, prompting my anger to dissipate. It was evidently a distraction tactic, but, in all honesty, it was a welcome one. In all my self-centered struggle, I hadn’t had the energy to think of them, but at the mention of my friends, time seemed to stand still for a moment.
I smiled. “I think Lauren is sitting at Stone’s bedside, like you are with me, though she’ll be looking all beautiful and he’ll be the one in the bed,” I began, my cravings dwindling. “Alfa and Dio will be crowded around him, too, wanting to be close to their captain. Angie and Bashrik might be there, as well, checking in on how everyone’s recovery is going. They’ll already have implemented a protection program for Earth, and they’ll be telling Stone all about it.”
“That’s a nice image. What else?” Navan urged me.
“Ronad will be up and about, helping Xiphio with some important Fed matters, before feeding everything back to the rest of the group,” I said, closing my eyes to picture their faces. “The two of them will be leading the first sentinels down to the headquarters on Earth’s surface so that the protection of the planet can start properly. I bet they’ve already spoken with the world leaders, to let them know they’re in safe hands, and there’s a sense of normalcy. Maybe they’ve covered it all up as a hoax, and the rest of the human race has already decided to forget everything.”
“Earth is definitely in good hands.” Navan smiled sadly, shuffling back onto the pillows and scooping me to his chest, stroking my hair gently. It felt good to be in his arms, even with my enormous stomach getting in the way.
“Do you think we’ll ever see any of them again?” My voice caught in my throat, my emotions threatening to get the better of me once more.
Navan pulled me even closer, his silence speaking volumes.
“I don’t either,” I whispered.
“Hey, there’s no need for tears,” he murmured, wiping them away from my cheeks as they fell. “We have each other, and we have this little one to think about.”
I hiccupped, feeling my strength crumble. “How could we do this to it? How could we bring it into the world like this, only to be taken out again by Ezra and his minions?”
“Well, first, we’re going to need to stop calling it, it. I know you didn’t want to talk about names in case we got too attached, but I think it’s too late for that,” he said, kissing my forehead tenderly. “This little one is coming, and he or she is going to need a name. All children deserve a name.”
“Another distraction technique?”
He smiled. “Come on, let’s think of some names. I like Bibuwatt and Skelevor if it’s a boy, and Funch or Slugrag if it’s a girl.”
I chuckled, only to find his face completely serious. “Wait… those are real names?”
“Yes, they are,” he said in mock defense. “I’ll have you know, some of the greatest minds of our planet were called Bibuwatt and Funch. Skelevor means ‘of the heart,’ and Slugrag means ‘valiant soul.’ They’re beautiful names—I’ve been thinking of them for ages!”
“How about Jack or Ishmael for a boy? Mort’s been calling me Moby Dick, so I might as well bring it full circle,” I replied, smiling. “And, if it’s a girl, we could call her Iris or Amelia?”
It was Navan’s turn to laugh. “Those are horrible names! Ishmael’s the best of a bad bunch, but there’s no way we’re calling our kid that.”
“Those are perfectly normal, lovely names!”
“Where you’re from, maybe. Where’s the poetry in them?”
“Says Mr. Bubawatt!” I collapsed in a fit of giggles.
“It is Bibuwatt, and it is a very well-respected name.” He cuddled me to him, the two of us content to be in each other’s arms, allowing a sliver of levity into our otherwise desolate lives. All this time, I’d thought that as long as I had him by my side I could endure anything, but there were three of us now. If one piece was missing, none of it worked.
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